


Escape

by PFL (msmoat)



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 18:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2517350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmoat/pseuds/PFL
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bodie doesn't like claustrophobic spaces. Doyle doesn't like watching his partner panic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Escape

**Author's Note:**

> Ali15son gave me this prompt: I've always wanted something on how Bodie coped with being imprisoned whilst in africa (from his own words) if that's possible.
> 
> This doesn't do justice to the prompt, but I hope it is at least an enjoyable short story. Thank you, Ali15son!

“Where’s Lassie when we need her, eh?”

“Should be standard equipment for any well, shouldn’t she?” It was reassuring that Bodie replied right away, but the tightness in his voice belied the attempted levity of his words.

Doyle knew better than to ask Bodie again if he was all right. “Maybe Harrison didn’t get the memo.”

“Typical.”

“The lads are on their way.” Thankfully, they had got word out before they’d been captured.

“Yeah.”

“By all rights we should be dead, anyway. Easier to shoot us than to dump us in here. Or shoot us and dump us in here. Or—“

“Shut up, Doyle.”

That sounded more like Bodie. Doyle felt himself relax a little. They were stuck at the bottom of a debris-filled well without means of communication, but at least they were together. “The next time Cowley suggests a ‘simple’ undercover op…”

“Yeah.” Bodie sounded as if he was simply filling silence, not really tracking the conversation.

The well was completely dark. Harrison and his men had slid the wooden cover over the hole. He couldn’t see Bodie, but they were standing close enough to one another that he could feel the tremors in his body. “You’re cold.” There was no water in the well, thank God, but it was damp.

Bodie said nothing to that and Doyle’s worry increased. Bodie had denied injury when they had first taken stock after being chucked down the well. His own head was aching from having been knocked out by Harrison’s men, but other than that he was okay. “Bodie.” He put a hand on Bodie’s arm.

Bodie flinched.

“Dammit,” Doyle said, “you _are_ hurt—”

“Leave it.” Bodie’s voice was hard.

Doyle stilled. He counted the seconds as they passed by, waited until he reached ten to speak again. “I can just hear the jokes the lads will make about this. We may need to crack a few heads.”

“Yeah.” After a few moments, Bodie added: “I’m not hurt. Bruised.”

“Yeah, okay.” He didn’t need to see Bodie to know he wasn’t telling him the whole truth. “Well, once we get out of here, and put the lads in their place, you can have— Who are you seeing now? Claire? Lisa? Well, whoever, look after you. Warm you right up, eh?”

“Debbie.”

“Deb—? Oh, right, you said she was back in town.”

“Temporary shift— Doyle. I need to get out of here.”

He had never, in all the years he’d known Bodie, heard panic in his voice before. Doyle’s heart rate sped up. “Okay. Hang on.”

“There’s nothing—”

“I’ll make it right.” There was no way they’d be able to reach the lip of the well, even if Bodie stood on his shoulders. They had already checked the rubbish and branches that had partially filled the well—none of it would help them reach higher. There was bloody nothing he could do. “Here. Don’t jump. I’m just going to touch you, okay?” He waited a moment, then put his hands on Bodie, felt the tension in him. If he hadn’t warned him, he knew Bodie would have lashed out at his touch. What the hell was going on? “It’s okay.”

He heard Bodie swallow. “I was in a hole before…Congo.”

Oh, Christ. Bodie’s words from a few months ago flashed through his mind: _Only some of us don't keep talking about it, right?_ Meredith had thought his experience as a prisoner was unique. Doyle didn’t know anything beyond the mere fact that Bodie had once been a prisoner during the Congo wars. “Yeah. Just—” What could he do? What could possibly distract—

 _Distract_.

Doyle suddenly leaned forward, seeking Bodie’s mouth with his own, but found his cheek and nose instead. Rather to his surprise, Bodie was still under his hands, so Doyle slid his mouth over Bodie’s skin until he covered Bodie’s mouth. He kissed him until he felt Bodie’s muscles twitch under his hands, and then he pulled back, braced for the inevitable reaction. He’d take Bodie’s anger over panic any day. Yet his heart beat heavily in his throat, because he’d been wanting to kiss Bodie for far too long, and he was afraid of the consequences.

“Ray.” Bodie’s voice was hoarse.

“Here.” He didn’t resist as Bodie’s hand clasped his bicep and pulled him forward, but it was astonishment he felt as Bodie’s mouth met his and his tongue sought entrance. Doyle opened his mouth, pressed close to Bodie, and rejoiced in the sudden, fiery urgency in Bodie’s kiss. He responded in kind, and surrendered to the heady sensation of kissing Bodie. He would have stayed there forever, tasting him, devouring him, but Bodie broke the kiss with a gasp.

“Ray—please—” His hands moved to Doyle’s belt buckle.

“Yeah, anything.” Doyle pulled Bodie back with him until his back was against the damp wall of the well. His fingers fumbled with the clasp and zip of Bodie’s trousers. The heat and bulk of Bodie’s arousal was clear against Doyle’s hands. “Oh, yeah, you need this.” He hissed as his own cock was freed, Bodie roughly shoving Doyle’s jeans and pants down. “Gonna…fuck me, then?”

Bodie’s cock moved in his hand, but Bodie shook his head against Doyle’s shoulder. “Not here. Just—Christ—hold me.”

Doyle wrapped his arm around Bodie, hand on his back. He found Bodie’s mouth again and kissed him as they jacked each other off. Their tongues stroked and dueled as they moved against each other. It was quick and dirty and not at all as he had imagined it would be, but Doyle revelled in every sensation, fully aware he was with Bodie, at last. _At fucking last_. He cried out as he came, breaking the kiss and burying his mouth in the leather of Bodie’s jacket. When he could, he lifted his head. “Let me—” He would suck Bodie off, make it good for him— But just at that moment, he felt the surge of Bodie’s cock in his hand, and then hot semen. Doyle leaned back against the wall, Bodie plastered to him, heavy in his arms. He held on to Bodie tightly, his chin on Bodie’s shoulder, and stared into the darkness of the well.

“Jesus Christ, Doyle.”

Doyle smiled a little, even as his stomach twisted. “I thought you needed a distraction, you see.”

“Oh, is that was that was?”

“Well, you don’t seem to be shaking anymore.”

“Can’t spare the energy.” Nevertheless, Bodie pushed away from the wall and Doyle. He made a brief sound, like a groan, and Doyle heard the rustle of clothing.

In the darkness, it was safe enough to bite his lip and close his eyes for a moment before he put his own clothing to rights. Bodie didn’t seem to be angry with him, but that was all Doyle knew. The knot in his stomach grew.

There was a distant shout above them: “Bodie! Doyle!”

“Here!” Bodie roared. “In the well!”

Doyle joined him in shouting to the lads, and a few minutes later they heard the scrape of wood against stone, and then torchlight shone down at them. Doyle blocked the light with his hand. “Get us out of here.”

“All right, all right.” It was Jax’s voice. “We’ll need a ladder. Or a rope. Or…fuck, what do we have?”

In the end, it took two ropes and a call for reinforcements to get them out of the well. By that time, Cowley was on the scene, looking well pleased, in a dour sort of way. “We have Harrison,” he informed them. “All neat and tidy. Well done, you might say.”

Doyle winced.

“All’s well that ends well, right?” Jax said.

Doyle glared at him, but Jax just smiled.

Bodie spoke up beside him. “Permission to go home, sir?”

“Or do you need our reports tonight?” Doyle wanted to go home, he could only imagine what they looked like. But, equally, he didn’t want to be either on his own or with Bodie just yet.

“No, no.” Cowley waved at them. “Tomorrow morning is soon enough for your reports. 0700 sharp, mind. Jax, take them home.”

“Thank you, sir,” Bodie said.

Doyle took the coward’s way out and sat in the front passenger seat next to Jax. He kept up his end of a conversation with Jax about the case, all too aware of Bodie’s silence in the back. What the hell had possessed him? But he knew the answer to that: Bodie’s need counted above his own needs and fears. What he didn’t know was what would happen to them now.

All too soon, it seemed to Doyle, they arrived at his flat. “Right, see you in the morning,” Doyle said, and then watched unsurprised as Bodie climbed out of the car as well. Damn the man. He managed to keep his voice neutral as he thanked Jax.

Jax didn’t seem to question Bodie being dropped off at Doyle’s flat rather than his own. “Cheerio.” Jax executed a neat U-turn in front of them, then shouted out of the lowered window: “Well-away!”

Doyle sighed. “We are never going to live this down.”

“We’ll sort them tomorrow. Let’s go and clean up.” Bodie nudged him. “Well begun is half done, eh?” He crossed the street to Doyle’s block.

“No one would blame me if I killed them all.” Doyle trudged after Bodie, but he was moderately reassured by Bodie’s joke. He didn’t _seem_ angry. But then, Bodie was quite capable of hiding any such emotion until they were alone. Maybe Bodie would just ignore the whole incident? He was quite capable of that as well. Doyle hunched his shoulders, uncertain which course of action he preferred.

“C’mon, Doyle, it’s freezing out here.” Bodie stood by the door to the block, hands jammed into the pockets of his jacket. He looked a mess, Illuminated by street light, the dirt and damp having done their work.

Doyle unlocked the door and led the way to his flat. “Go on and take a shower,” he said as he tossed his keys into a bowl by the door. “I’ll make tea.”

“Doyle,” Bodie said behind him.

Doyle closed his eyes for a moment, then turned to face him.

Bodie’s expression was serious, almost grim.

“I’m sorry,” Doyle said. “I—” He couldn’t go on. He had run out of words.

“That wasn’t a new idea for you, was it?”

“No.” Doyle looked away. He wanted to explain that it didn’t matter, he’d make sure it didn’t affect them, but his throat felt too tight for speech.

Bodie moved forward. Doyle stood his ground, prepared for Bodie’s anger. Bodie stopped in front of him. The silence seemed deafening to Doyle, until Bodie finally spoke. “They threw us in a hole—eight of us. It was too deep to climb out, too narrow for us all to fit. There was sucking mud at the bottom. They covered the hole with a grating. Left us there to fight for air, get away from the mud by climbing on each other.” He fell silent.

“How long?”

“Overnight.” Bodie took in a breath. “We survived, all of us. We didn’t fight each other. Some of them died later, but not that night. I…don’t…”

“Like holes in the ground?”

“No.” Bodie smiled fleetingly. “And I don’t talk about it. Ever.”

It was with a sort of painful clarity that Doyle suddenly understood. “Secrets, eh?” He’d keep Bodie’s, and Bodie would keep his. He nodded. He could do this. He’d had no real hope, anyway. “Go on, then, I’ll make that—“ But Bodie stopped him with a hand on his arm as Doyle turned away.

“Not between us,” Bodie said. And Doyle let himself be pulled forward until Bodie’s hands were on his cheeks, and Bodie’s lips found his. The kiss was sweet, exploratory, as if now they had all the time in the world. Perhaps they did. Doyle finally broke the kiss, but Bodie retained his hold on him. “Let’s go to bed, Ray.”

“Oh, yeah.” Doyle disengaged from Bodie and stepped back. “After we shower.”

“Together?” Bodie looked hopeful.

Doyle couldn’t help but smile at that look, although he was still reeling from the sudden realisation that all he’d wanted was about to come true. “You must be joking—in my shower? Go wash, I’ll—“

“Make tea, yes, I know. I’m not interested in tea, Ray.” He reached again for Doyle, but Doyle evaded him.

“Later.” Doyle grinned. “After all, whatever is worth doing, is worth doing well.”

While Bodie groaned, Doyle made a quick escape to the kitchen.

END  
October 2014


End file.
